Chapter 16
CHAPTER 16
“ I t would help a lot if you guys had telephone books,” Crow said a bit sourly as they trudged back toward Mayfair.
“We’ve only just invented telephones. Almost nobody has them yet. I never saw one until after I joined the carnival.”
“So how do we find out where someone lives?”
Simeon had given this some thought as they walked. He’d rarely had a reason to track someone down, and never someone posh enough for servants, a landau, and a family crest. In his own neighborhood he’d generally just ask around or, if he knew the person’s habits, wait for them at a place they frequented. He didn’t know where the Fitzrolfs spent their time, so that left asking around.
He decided to begin in the upscale neighborhoods: St. James’s, Mayfair, Kensington, Belgravia. None of those were very familiar to him, and he and Crow wouldn’t exactly fit in, so he had to hope for the best.
They began in St. James’s Square since it was the closest. Many of the grand houses were now offices or clubs, but some wealthy people continued to live in the area. The question was how to find out whether the Fitzrolfs were among them.
“There’s a policeman,” Crow said, pointing at a constable standing at the edge of the square. “We could ask him.”
And he would almost certainly know, but Simeon squirmed uncomfortably. “Coppers and I don’t get on well. And anyway, he’s not likely to want to help us without a good explanation.”
“Okay, then?—”
“Hang on.” Without explanation, Simeon loped down the street and turned a sharp corner into a narrow yard lined with servants’ entrances and a few stables. Crow caught up just as Simeon reached his quarry: a knife grinder pushing a colorfully decorated cart.
Looking alarmed, the young man backed up against a brick wall. “I haven’t any push, and if you try to blag, I’ll call for the rozzer, I will.”
Simeon raised his palms in what he hoped was a calming gesture. “We’re not out to harm you, mate. Just wanted to ask you a question.”
The man spent a moment scrutinizing them both before relaxing a tiny bit. “What sort of question?”
“A hard-working gentleman like yourself, I reckon you know more about this neighborhood than any of the nobs who live here, yeah?” That wasn’t simple flattery. A knife grinder would be accustomed to chatting with servants—both out of politeness and with an eye to maximizing profits—and would hear all the news.
The young man lifted his chin proudly. “So?”
“So you’d know whether the Fitzrolfs live around here.”
“Why do you want to know?” He was quite handsome, with his arms and legs nicely muscular on account of his work, and he wore his cap at a jaunty angle.
“I fancy paying them a visit. Distant relative.” This wasn’t quite a lie, at least not if one was generous with interpretation. After all, Simeon was in search of a brother he’d never known, which made him a distant relative indeed.
The knife grinder scoffed. “You’re not one of them.”
Simeon opened his mouth to say… something, but then Crow stepped in. “He’s not, but I am.”
“And what are you then?”
“American. I came from America in search of my English roots.”
It was funny. When Simeon and Crow had traveled across the United States, they’d sometimes played up Simeon’s exotic accent to charm the locals. And now Crow was doing essentially the same thing.
And the knife grinder was, in fact, charmed. Or at least intrigued. “You came all the way here to dig up some old uncles or summat? You don’t have enough of ’em back home?”
“All I have back home is my Aunt Helen, and she’s wonderful. I came here because my friend wanted to show me where he’s from. The, uh, family tree stuff is a bonus.”
“Huh. I s’pose that if I had rich family somewhere, I’d cross an ocean to find ’em too.” The man rubbed the back of his neck and then seemed to make a decision. “You’ll find that lot on Eaton Place.”
When Crow smiled his thanks, the knife grinder grinned back and seemed about one second away from coyly fluttering his eyelashes. Simeon intervened by handing him a shilling, which he pocketed quickly and hurried away, as if worried that Simeon might change his mind.
“See? As good as a phone book,” said Simeon as soon as the grinder was out of earshot.
“Yeah, he was helpful.”
“He was flirting with you. ”
“He was not!” It was amusing to see Crow’s cheeks turn pink.
“A handsome foreigner who might soon come into some money? I daresay he’d have been delighted for a tumble. He’s a pretty one too.”
Crow sputtered a bit. “I don’t— He wasn’t— I didn’t mean—” He huffed and grabbed Simeon’s shoulders. “It’s just you for me, okay? I don’t want anyone else.”
“I was just taking the piss.” Which was mostly true, but he didn’t mind hearing Crow say it. Simeon had never loved anyone before Crow, and he knew that Crow would forever be the only beloved to inhabit the space in his heart. But that was the nature of a rook, who mates for life; Crow was not a rook.
Because Simeon didn’t know where Eaton Place was, he hailed a hackney. It wasn’t a long ride, and it took them near Buckingham Palace. “Must be nice to live in a place like that,” Crow said as he looked out the window.
Simeon was going to point out that the Queen preferred to stay elsewhere, but the now-familiar fizz hit his brain. When he looked out Crow’s side of the carriage, he saw shattered windows, collapsed walls and fences, and piles of rubble. “Shit,” Crow mumbled beside him.
A heartbeat later, the palace was intact again.
“What was that?” Simeon realized his voice was shaky.
“World War Two, I think. The Blitz. The Germans did a lot of bombing here.”
Simeon blinked at him, appalled. “World War Two ? Bombs?”
“It was…. I only know a little about it—this was in the 1940s—but it was bad, Simeon. Tens of millions of people died.”
Tens of millions. Simeon couldn’t fathom numbers like that. He shuddered. “Don’t even need demons when humans can do so much on their own, yeah?”
Crow nodded and squeezed his hand.
Perhaps someday Simeon would ask for more details about what had happened. But not now.
Eaton Place was lined on both sides with grand terraced houses finished in white stucco, most with flowerpots on the balcony atop the veranda. Another wave of vertigo hit him as he stood there, but this time the houses remained the same, although cars were parked along the asphalt-paved street. Then he blinked and all of it was gone, replaced by grassy fields dotted with sheep.
“Simeon,” said Crow sharply.
“I’m not doing this intentionally.”
“I know.”
After Simeon blinked a few more times, they were back where—or rather, when —they had started, and two women with elaborate hats, each holding a tiny dog, were glaring at him. His bones ached, even though he hadn’t walked much today, and all he wanted was the bed at the Langham.
Crow clearly wanted to say something but managed to hold his tongue, although his scowl was fierce enough to crack glass. Best to get things moving, Simeon reckoned, before Crow got more upset or bombs from the future rained from the sky. He led Crow around the corner to the mews that ran behind the houses. Most of the houses had stables there, and leafy trees spread out from the back gardens.
There were quite a few people hurrying up and down the mews. Servants, mostly, but also a trio of carpenters inspecting the wall of one of the stables, and a cat’s meat woman with a wheelbarrow and a clamoring retinue of hungry tabbies. At least Crow and Simeon didn’t look out of place among this crowd, although people would grow suspicious if they stood there too long.
“Pardon me,” Simeon said to a girl in a maid’s uniform with a large basket draped over one arm. She didn’t appear to be out of her teens yet, and her headscarf didn’t quite hide her ginger braids.
She peered at him distrustfully but blushed as well. And was Simeon a big enough cad to use his charm on this girl? Indeed he was, and he gave her his most winning smile. “P’raps you can help me and my mate, miss. I’d be much obliged.” He upped the ante with a sweeping bow. It wasn’t hard to flirt with her. When he was her age, sometimes he’d go to the nicer parts of the city—not as posh as this, but nice enough that people had servants. And while he’d visited those parts with an eye to potential minor larceny, he hadn’t minded the pleasant distraction of a pretty maid or two.
Apparently he hadn’t lost his touch, because this one gave him a distinctly naughty grin. “Wouldn’t mind helping either of you.”
Crow was rolling his eyes. Simeon was sure, even if he couldn’t see it.
Simeon gave her a shameless wink. “Just hoping for directions, we are. Could you tell us which house belongs to the Fitzrolfs?”
“Oh, they live next door!” She pointed at a nearby house. “But there’s nobody there right now. The entire household is at the country estate. They spend most of their time there, in fact, except Mr. Fitzrolf of course, since he has business in the city. But even he’s gone right now and the staff went with. Including Henry the footman, and isn’t that a pity?” Her expression made it clear that she and Henry had something together but that she wouldn’t say no to other male company in his absence.
Trying to hide his disappointment, Simeon nodded. “ Terrible shame.” A thought occurred to him. “This Henry… does he have black hair like me?”
She laughed. “His is ordinary brown. Not nearly so pretty as yours.”
That was disheartening. “Is the country estate far from here?”
“Oh, I expect so. Derbyshire, I think. Or is it Leicestershire?” She waved a hand airily.
Shit. He could ask around some more and get more precise information, but what was the point? The way he felt right now, anywhere outside London felt as distant and unattainable as the moon, unless he flew. But then Crow couldn’t come along.
He was going to continue the conversation out of politeness, but his vision fuzzed and he stood in the middle of a field again. In the distance, a small crowd was watching what appeared to be a sword duel between two men in doublets and hose. The girl was gone, which he supposed was a good thing, but when he swung around there was no sign of Crow either. Simeon’s blood turned to ice and his gut clenched.
“Crow?” he cried.
And then he collapsed to the ground.
He didn’t fully lose consciousness, but the tempest in his skull swirled for some time before finally clearing. He gave a great whooping breath of relief when he saw Crow kneeling beside him. When Crow helped him sit up, Simeon realized that his head and shoulder were throbbing; he’d likely banged them on the pavement. But when he touched his scalp gingerly, his hand didn’t come away bloody, so that was good.
Crow had gone deathly pale. “Are you all right?”
“I think so.” Simeon picked up his cap and resettled it into place.
The pretty maid stood nearby, looking concerned along with the carpenters, the cat’s meat woman, and several others. Apparently Crow had barked at everyone to stay clear, and they had.
Simeon started to stand, but Crow held him in place with a hand on his shoulder. “Rest a minute, okay? You look awful.” He glanced over his shoulder at the crowd, then turned back to Simeon and said very quietly, “You went sort of transparent for a second.”
“I what ?”
“You…. Let’s talk about this somewhere else, okay?”
“Can’t do that if you won’t let me stand.” Simeon attempted a smile, with limited success. He felt as if he’d woken up after a night spent soaked in bad gin; his head pounded and his queasy stomach was doing flip-flops.
Crow’s face was a mixture of concern, annoyance, and perhaps a dash of relief. He helped Simeon to his feet and, after shouldering both of their knapsacks, encouraged him to drape an arm around Crow’s shoulders for support.
“Just a dizzy spell,” Simeon announced to the assemblage. “I had the flu last week.”
As he’d hoped, everyone took a few steps backward. The maid, looking considerably disappointed, hurried away, and then the others returned to their previous tasks. Simeon took a few steadying breaths. “I would very much like some strong drink.”
“Okay. Where?”
Oh God, anywhere . “I saw a public house a few blocks from here.” He gestured feebly.
“Can you make it that far?”
“Aye. ”
And he did, even managing to snort a laugh when he saw the name of the place, which he hadn’t noted when they were in the hackney. “The Rook’s Roost?”
“I bet it’s not even a coincidence.”
“Of course it’s not.”
They opened the eggplant-hued door and entered a dark space redolent of smoke, ale, and damp wool. The clientele was surprisingly mixed, with some appearing to be tradesmen taking a midday break, while others were well-dressed residents of the neighborhood. The general atmosphere was… comfortable, Simeon supposed. Conversations seemed cheerful but not overly loud. A few older gentlemen read newspapers over their pints. A very large and shaggy dog of indeterminate breed sprawled on the wooden floor like a rug; it thumped its tail in greeting as they walked past.
And to neither Simeon’s nor Crow’s surprise, the middle-aged woman behind the bar looked very familiar. Her dress was a dark mulberry that looked black unless the light hit it properly, and her graying hair was gathered into a neat bun.
“Hullo boys,” she said cheerily. “Take a seat and I’ll bring something to restore you.” Her voice had an Irish lilt.
They exchanged a look and followed directions, opting for a snug table in the corner, far enough from other patrons to hold a private conversation.
“One would think,” Simeon said as he took a chair, “that these women would have other matters to attend to besides us.”
“I guess we entertain them.”
“Lovely. And they can move about in time as easily as the carnival?”
Crow shrugged.
The bar matron appeared a few moments later with a tall glass for each of them. “You may call me Miss Lachance,” she announced. “And you’ll be drinking ale today. Anything stronger would knock you over.”
Simeon wanted to protest, but she was probably right. He felt weak, as he had with consumption, and the world still looked a bit wavery. He lifted his glass in a salute. “Thank you, ma’am.”
She leaned in and gave Crow’s ear a tweak, making him blush like a school boy. “Here you two are, messing about.” She sounded like a fond but slightly exasperated aunt. “But London’s a right old lark, isn’t she?”
“It’s a confusing place,” said Crow.
“It’s old, dearie. You Yanks think anyplace your grandparents lived is ancient. But when people settle in a spot for thousands of years, well, time gets all tangled up like a ball of yarn after the cat’s been at it. It’s a different sort of history.” She patted Simeon’s shoulder and sailed away.
Simeon drank over half his glass in one long swallow. It didn’t clear his head but at least it soothed his throat. “What do you reckon she’s on about?”
“Dunno. Maybe… maybe she’s trying to explain why you’re suddenly having time weirdness here and now.”
“I lived here for a long time before and never did.”
“Yeah, but you didn’t know you were a rook back then. Maybe that makes a difference.”
Simeon sighed, drained the rest of his glass, and grabbed Crow’s, which was still nearly full. Crow didn’t protest. He simply sat there, waiting for Simeon to ask questions. Simeon didn’t truly want to, but putting it off wouldn’t change things.
“What happened to me back there?” he finally asked.
Crow looked thoughtful. “When I was a kid, my grandparents had a really old TV set. Most of the time we could get three channels, but sometimes a storm would knock the antenna or something, and granddad would have to go up on the roof and fix it. Until he did, we’d only get one channel, and that one would look grainy. More static than picture. That’s what happened to you. Just for a second. First you went see-through, then staticky, then you collapsed and were back to normal.”
To avoid thinking too much about the implications, Simeon asked another question, “What did the servant girl think of that?”
“She just sort of… squeaked? It happened so fast that maybe she thought her eyes tricked her or something.” Crow chewed his lip for moment as Simeon drank his ale. “I take it you did a time thing?”
“Far backwards, I reckon. Fields instead of buildings and the people looked as if they’d answer to Good Queen Bess.”
“Great. How come you didn’t take me with you? And why did you….” Crow swallowed loudly. “Almost disappear?”
Simeon considered this as he drank. “You were standing a bit farther from me this time. Perhaps that’s why you stayed here. And—” He paused as a thought hit him. “Bloody hell. You’re my anchor, love. Time is a river, yeah? I travel down it, and without you, I simply… drift away.”
“Then I’m going to fucking attach myself to you like a barnacle.” Crow’s fierce scowl warmed Simeon’s heart.
Miss Lachance returned to clear away the empties, place two fresh glasses on the table, and cluck her tongue at Simeon. “Let your man have his own, dearie. He’s had a hard time with things as well.”
“Time,” Simeon groaned. Then he started in on his third ale.
Crow, usually the bigger drinker of the two of them, tapped his fingers on the table. “I know you’re not supposed to interfere with, uh, us,” he said to her. “I get it. And I totally appreciate the help you all have given us. Is there anything else you can do? ”
“You’re not convinced it’ll all work out in the end?”
He shook his head. “It doesn’t, a lot of the time. I mean, Simeon and I, we’ve been very lucky?—”
“Not luck, dearie. Fate and self-determination balancing out in your favor.”
Crow was going to argue with her about it; Simeon could tell by the set of his mouth. Simeon was also certain that it wasn’t wise to question Miss Lachance, so he stepped in quickly. “Ma’am, I’ve been bouncing all over the city like a billiard ball. Every time I look for an answer I end up with more questions, and I’m terrified of what might happen.” He clutched Crow’s hand fiercely, knowing she wouldn’t mind this show of affection. “Now it seems I have to gallop off to the countryside—but I don’t know where—and I don’t even know if there are any answers there, and there’s another bleeding prophecy, and I just want us to have ordinary people’s problems and—” He stopped before he ended up in tears again.
“But you’re not ordinary people, are you, dearie?” She looked sympathetic but also a bit strict, like a nice nurse who expects you to swallow some nasty medicine. Then she wiped her hands on her apron. “Your man already knows what to do. So do you, if you give it some thought.” She tapped her own head. “A wee bit of this wouldn’t go amiss with you.”
Then she was gone again, off to attend to a man with gloriously thick side whiskers. She patted the dog on the head as she passed.
Simeon stared at Crow. “Well?”
“Well what? I have no idea what she means. If I knew what to do I would’ve said so.”
“Well, I’m too much a dullard to suss it out.”
Crow rolled his eyes. “We both know you’re the brains of this outfit. I’m just muscle. ”
They were still holding hands, and Simeon gave Crow’s a hard squeeze before releasing it. “But you conquered your demons.”
“Only with your help. Only with everyone’s help, remember? The armies of those I love engirth me .”
Now it was Simeon’s turn to make a dismissive noise. “I was simply there, love. Didn’t do much of anything.”
“No, you did everything . Man, talk about billiard balls! If it wasn’t for you, I’d still be rabbiting all over the United States, leaving death everywhere I went. Or maybe I’d have finally given in and joined those fuckers. But you were the one who convinced me I had to do something, remember? That I had to face them.”
Simeon started to respond but stopped suddenly. He took a few breaths, drained his third glass in one go, and slammed it on the table. Then he looked at Crow.
“I know what I have to do.”